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The next morning was filled with so many awkward silences that I lost count.
I bowed out of breakfast by pretending I was sick. It seemed to work.
I wanted to join everyone at the competition, I wanted to be there cheering Liam on. But it wasn’t my place. Not after everything I said. And that broke my heart even more.
Locked in my room, I could hear the others excited chatter in the living room.
“Is Ari coming?” I heard Remy, Liam’s mom, ask.
“No,” Liam replied. His tone was biting, like he was on edge.
“Oh,” she replied. “Is she still sick.”
“Yeah,” he replied, “she’s really sick.”
Clutching my pillow, I began to cry some more, and I really did feel sick—if your heart can be sick, that is.
Eventually, they all left and the room was silent.
I’d never felt more alone than I did right then.
I eventually turned the TV on and found the channel broadcasting the competition. Not much of what they said made sense to me, but I hoped I’d get a glimpse of Liam.
At that moment the camera was panned in on the commentators where they sat beneath a tent, and I couldn’t see anything else.
I stayed riveted to the screen, though, waiting.
When the camera finally panned to the beach, I saw Liam in his wetsuit paddling out. My heart lurched and tears filled my eyes.
Yesterday morning had been one of, if not the best, moments of my life and then I’d had to go and ruin it.
He’d never forgive me.
I knew that.
To him, I was no better than Kennedy.
But with Blaise out there, it’s what I’d had to do to keep him safe.
His life was more important than our happiness. He’d probably never know that, but I would, and it made all the difference.
I sat back in the bed, fluffing the pillows and getting comfortable.
The commentators went over the stats of each surfer, and even though I had no idea what the numbers meant, pride filled my chest when Liam’s face appeared on the screen.
When they’d finished giving the stats on the surfers, the camera panned back out on the ocean and the five guys bobbing in the water.
I clutched a pillow to my chest, and a tear leaked from the corner of my eye when the camera zoomed in on the profile of Liam’s face.
He looked so angry and hurt, but there was a determination set in his jaw and I hoped that meant he was focused on the waves ahead of him. I’d never forgive myself if he was so lost in his thoughts about us that it threw him from the competition. I knew how important surfing was to him.
The first heat ended thirty minutes later, knocking out two of the guys and leaving Liam, Wyatt Perry, and Sam Hanson.
The next heat would determine the final two, and I crossed my fingers that Liam was in it. I wanted, more than anything, to see him succeed.
I sat, riveted to the screen, cheering on every time Liam caught a wave. In my opinion, he had more style than the other two guys. It looked like they were just riding the waves, but Liam was living it.
When the second heat ended, I waited with bated breath for the results.
